


Scratches

by CaffeinatedFlumadiddle



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bruh Arthur is not prepared, Everyone is about to be shook, Gen, Merlin is trying his best, also low key jealous Arthur, basically there's a spell that carves your worst fear on your arm, it goes as well as you would expect, technically canon compliant, there's no reason to say it didn't happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-15 18:07:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14795370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaffeinatedFlumadiddle/pseuds/CaffeinatedFlumadiddle
Summary: Arthur hadn’t thought much of what his greatest fear would be until it was carved into his skin. The only thing worse was finding out what everyone else was afraid of.





	Scratches

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: don't own anything. Just trying to procrastinate on the stuff I should be doing.

Magic was such a fickle thing.

  
Arthur never really doubted this, but sometimes it was shoved in his face so violently, it forced him to growl and mutter as he considered it in more depth. In truth, Arthur rarely allotted himself much time to think about magic. His father had already outlined the details for him. It existed. It was evil. It must be destroyed. The holy trinity of things to know on the matter.

  
As soon as Arthur was ready to fully embrace this line of thinking, something typically happened to change everything. This time, it was a sharp pain late into the depths of the night that ultimately ended up being the final, convoluted straw to shake up the situation indefinitely.

  
Arthur had awoken gasping, gripping the inside of his forearm as something sharp rakes across his skin. He must has screamed at some point because he could hear others running towards him outside. The door to his chambers slammed open and Merlin ran towards him. Arthur didn’t have time to wonder why his servant was still in the castle at this time of night, nor why there appeared to be other cries of pain aside from his own. He only just beginning to notice the blood that was beginning to seep through his nightshirt, looking black in low lighting.

  
“Arthur.” Merlin said, his voice strained. “Is it your arm as well?”

  
_As well?_

  
The prince didn’t have time to ponder the wording, only nodding as he got out of the bed, taking a steady breath. He was starting to adjust to the pain now. The shock of it had worn off, leaving his mind to clear slightly.

  
“We need to get to Gaius.” Arthur said, but Merlin was already shaking his head.

  
“Too crowded.” The younger man told him “Even with you it would take us a good hour to push through the crowds outside. I haven’t been able to get in all night.” He shrugged and Arthur furrowed his brows as Merlin nonchalantly grabbed a bowl and filled it with water from the pitcher on Arthur’s drawer.

  
“What are you talking about?” He asked, shaking his head free of the residual pain. The fireplace was lighting up the room now, candles helping to illuminate the bandages in Merlin’s hands.

  
“The marks on your arms.” Merlin sighed “It is happening to everyone. Gaius was treating the king when more people came. I helped but…” He shook his head “There were so many and I knew I should get to you first.” He said. Gently, he pulled Arthur’s arm out and rolled back the sleeve to put the cloth over it.

  
“What is this?” Arthur frowned “Did Gaius say?”

  
“Sorcery.” Merlin told him calmly and Arthur felt his body tense. Taking off the wet cloth, Arthur looked down to see what marks had been left on his skin. It was hard to tell, but they looked to be forming words. Merlin wrapped his arm without comment.

  
“I need to check on my knights.” Arthur said suddenly “What does the spell do? Has it killed anyone?” Merlin merely shook his head.

  
“No one has been more injured than this.” He said gesturing to Arthur’s arm and the prince noticed a bandaged wrapped around the servant as well. Arthur’s lips thinned. The spell hadn’t killed them all…Yet. What else could its purpose be?

As it turned out, his father had the same question.

  
The next morning Uther paced back and forth the throne room, Arthur standing to his side as they listened to Gaius’ conclusions on the sudden ailment. The room was mostly empty aside from the three of them and Merlin, Uther not wanting everyone to have full disclosure on the wild turn of events just yet.

  
“I don’t understand.” The king gritted out, a hand flickering to his own arm. “What does this accomplish? What has this…sorcerer even done?” He spat out and Gaius’ eyes flickered from Uther to Arthur.

  
“This is a very old spell, sire. The last time it was known to be used was long before I was even born. The purpose of such an enchantment is to…mark the victims, so the speak, with something personal.”

  
“Personal?” Uther repeated softly and his jaw tightened. Gaius calmly nodded.

  
“The caster may choose to have something as simple as their favorite color displayed. Or darkest secret. From what I’ve seen on people I have treated so far is that this particular sorcerer has chosen for all of us to display a fear. My guess is that whatever we fear most has been branded onto our arms.” He said and Uther’s eyes widened slightly before schooling his expression.

  
“So the sorcerer must be trying to gauge our weaknesses.” He said softly “Which could only work if they are in Camelot.” Silence enveloped the room for a second before Uther nodded to himself and spun from the room, leaving Arthur in his wake.

  
That afternoon the king’s intentions were clear. Everyone’s arm would be covered at all times. Even as the marks healed into unfading black scabs, the bandages must always wrap the words and no one was to share them unless explicit consent from the king allowed it. Additionally, the castle would be searched and interrogated in an effort to find the sorcerer.

  
“It is a bit strange.” Arthur had commented when Merlin drew up his bathwater “If a sorcerer was powerful enough to cast a spell over all of Camelot…why wouldn’t they be powerful enough to simply cast a spell that killed me or my father?” He shook his head. It didn’t make any sense. What could they really be after?

  
Merlin looked at him, head tilted slightly as his features pinched slightly, but only offered a shrug in response.

 

* * *

  
It was Gaius who was first.

  
Arthur often made it a point to come to the old man’s chambers in order to see how he was progressing with an antidote to the curse. Gaius, who was so often immersed in his works he forgot to do simple things like comb his hair or put on socks, hadn’t worn a bandage to cover up his marks.  
Arthur hadn’t even noticed until he heard a soft intake of breath from Merlin beside him. As Gaius attempted to mix some ingredients to a remedy together his sleeve had ridden up, revealing a solitary word.

  
_Fire_

  
Arthur hadn’t understood. Gaius was perfectly at ease with the crackling of the hearth in the castle. While it was true his eyes never lingered on it for too long, he never seemed…Scared.

  
Then Arthur remembered. Gaius had been there during the purge.

  
He wondered how scared Gaius would have been during that time – as a sorcerer who served the king to find out all of his kind would be burned alive. To watch his friends and their children fed to the flames as he perhaps held a crying Arthur or Morgana from their bedroom window.  
The thought chilled him.

  
Merlin said nothing, but there was a pain in his face that Arthur couldn’t place. His servant’s hands were fisted by his sides, jaw tight as he looked at the wall in front of him. Arthur was wise enough not to bring it up.

  
Soon more words began to make an appearance. When the prince visited the lower town he learned not everyone could afford bandages or even proper clothing to cover the marks. Each mark always seemed more revealing than the last.

The fisherman was afraid of drowning.

The boy selling bread was scared of losing his mother.

The executioner of death.

The little girl on the street of starvation.

Each mark felt like a stab to the chest. Arthur couldn’t figure how to help them. Anyone. Instead he just would just offer what he could and walk on.

His own markings were still there – the rough scabs still as black as ever. He wondered this was all the curse truly entailed. Forcing him to read these words everyday for the rest of his life.

Uther had allowed Merlin was trusted enough to see Arthur’s arm. While he was an idiot, the king had no complaints on the man’s loyalty or dedication to Arthur. Besides, it would be hard to keep it a secret from the person who dressed and bathed him.

Despite that, his servant never did look.

He would always turn away, eyes lowering while he allowed Arthur to quickly change the bandage on his arm before turning back to him again. They never discussed it and Arthur never told him otherwise. In all honesty, the prince did want to keep this to himself. He was thankful Merlin understood that without a single word needing to be exchanged.

It made him wonder what on earth the man could be hiding on his arm. He decided he would never ask either. It was only fair.

Unfortunately, not everyone had the same ideas as Merlin and Arthur. Sentences were continuously doled out whenever servants revealed nobles’ secrets and lighter issued for vice versa. It seemed like an easy way for petty rivals to get back at one another through the marks – Arthur had caught his knights attempting to tear at one another’s during practice.

“Sir Leon is scared of my father.” Arthur said to Merlin one night. Merlin paused in undressing him to ask the silent question. Arthur sighed “I noticed it when we were getting change. I hadn’t meant to see.”

Merlin’s hands moved again, continuing his work at the confirmation.

“I’m sure many people are frightened of your father. It comes with the job. I doubt it affects his loyalty to the crown.”

“A king must be feared?”

“No, but that is how your father has decided to rule.” Merlin shrugged and turned to rearrange some things as Arthur mulled over the answer. He wasn’t sure if Merlin’s comment was a criticism or a simple fact – Arthur personally thought his father wasn’t a cruel king. He sometimes made hard decisions, but he wasn’t a monster. Just a man.

“His worst fear though? You don’t think… You don’t think Leon has magic do you?” He asked and at this Merlin tensed. Arthur wasn’t expecting the sharpness of his gaze or anger hidden behind his eyes. He opened his mouth to defend himself, but Merlin already had spoken.

“No.” He said, voice snapped and tight “Is that how Uther plans on hunting the sorcerer? Finding everyone who fears him?” He asked and slammed Arthur’s wardrobe door with a little more force than necessary. “I’m glad you found a way to use this to you advantage.” He said and gave a small, terse bow. Arthur blinked. There was something in Merlin’s words that startled him.

“Is my father’s name on your arm?” He asked quietly and Merlin straightened his hand dancing over the bandage. He shook his head.

“Is it on yours?”

Arthur felt his throat close up at the question, jaw clenching. Part of him wondered if he should be offended by it. Instead he simply shook his head and dismissed him. He spent the rest of the night wondering why Merlin thought his father could be Arthur’s greatest fear.

Weeks later Gaius declared he might have found an antidote. He wanted to test it, but Uther was unwilling for the physician to test it on himself. Luckily, he seemed hesitant to let him try it on Merlin since he was technically Gaius’ apprentice.

“I’ve asked for volunteers,” Gaius told him as Merlin helped prepare a solution “I would never force anyone to try my creations.” Merlin made a noise in the back of his throat that told Arthur he most certainly did.

  
“Have you received any?”

“Many. Most in the lower town cannot read so they are unsure of what the marks are – it bothers them nobles know their weaknesses while not even they know it.”

Arthur had never thought of that. Guilt gnawed at him and he tried to shrug it away.

An old woman was the first one to try the antidote. She stumbled in with wild hair and an even wilder grin before jutting out her arm.

“I’m old anyways,” She snorted when Gaius asked if she was sure “Either it kills me or it doesn’t. No need for it to be some kid who suffers.” She said and tugged on the loose bandage. Her skin was so worn and wrinkled it was hard to read the words clearly.

_the rack_

It took Arthur a few moments to figure out what that meant. Merlin had given a sharp intake at the words before falling to his knees and wiping her arm clean to apply the ointment. The woman smiled at him warmly.

“It was long ago.” She said and patted the side of his servant’s face.

“I’m so sorry.”

Arthur hadn’t heard of anyone in Camelot using the rack in his life. The torture device was not well regarded by his father, though he knew they had one. Perhaps the woman simply feared it from stories she had heard, but the way she and Merlin spoke…

“Were you tortured here? In Camelot?” He asked as Merlin dabbed the blue ointment over the words. The woman turned to him, head tilted. He hadn’t identified himself as the prince, but wondered if she knew all the same. Gaius hummed lowly to himself, mixing more pastes together.

“It was during the Great Purge. I was known sympathizer to magic. Many of my friends had been sorcerers. King Uther wanted to know if I housed any or knew where they would be hiding.” She sighed and leaned back in the chair. Merlin was applying a second coating of the paste, eyes focused on the work at hand. “I lasted four days,” She chuckled lowly “When the king promised me freedom…To get off of the damn thing I…” Arthur swallowed as she gave a heavy sigh. “I understand Camelot’s views on magic, but I will always be ashamed of what I did. Always.”

Gaius’ antidote hadn’t worked.

“What does mine say?” A little boy asked over a month later. Gaius had created another concoction and gathered more volunteers.

“Turtles?” Merlin frowned, looking down at the boy’s arm. The boy shivered.

“They are creepy.” He said and Merlin grinned before schooling his face and giving a serious nod in agreement. Arthur felt a bit of weight leave him. He knew he didn’t have to come to these tests, but something in him felt he owed it to his people. Still, the fears of his people kept him up at night. He was glad there were still a few innocents left in the midst of the kingdom.

“Owen, you know this will be dangerous.” Merlin warned “Are your parents okay with you doing this?”

“They don’t care,” Owen shrugged “Mama hasn’t even seen my arm.”

  
Merlin pursed his lips at that, but turned to Gaius with disapproval. Gaius subtly handed Merlin a different bottle than the one the antidote was in.

After applying what Arthur knew to be Morgana’s perfume to his arm Merlin declared the experiment to be a failure and sent the boy off with praises of bravery. A little while later the woman from before returned.

“How old are you two?” She asked as Merlin cleaned off her arm again.

“Uh, twenty-one summers.”

“Nineteen.”

Merlin was younger than him? Arthur hadn’t known that. He should have suspected – did he expect the idiot to be wise and mature? The woman tsked and tilted her head back.

“So young,” She crowed “This one’s eyes look much older.” She added, jerking head to Merlin “Tell me, darling. Do you understand the words on your arm?” She asked and Merlin froze before licking his lips.

“Not at first. But now, yes.”

Interesting.

“And you, young prince?”

So it would appear she did know who was after all. Arthur’s hand fluttered to his arm before offering a wry smile.

“I worry I misinterpret.” He admitted and the woman’s smile grew. Arthur's fear was pretty straightforward, but he still was trying to justify it as well as he could. Leaning forward the woman patted his hand before rewrapping her arm.

“I’ll inform you tomorrow if the marks have faded.”

They didn’t.

Uther was getting antsy. The marks had led to no consequences that anyone could see, but the fact they were still there frustrated his father and council. Arthur wondered if they somehow must face their fear to rid themselves of the marks. When he suggested this to Gaius, the physician sighed.

“We’ve tested that, sire. I’m afraid it has proven fruitless as well. Besides, it would be…difficult for those with more…Abstract fears.” He said his eyes flickered to where Merlin was pouring over a large volume of medicinal herbs. Arthur tilted his head. Did Gaius know Merlin’s fear? He thought back to what the woman had asked them. Merlin admitted he hadn’t initially understood what his fear was. Arthur’s curiosity nipped at him. He immediately pushed it back down.

“I’m going to the druids.” Arthur announced later that night. Merlin blinked at the announcement. “They’ll know the cause of these markings.”

“Your father has agreed to this?”

“No,” Arthur admitted “He has agreed to a hunting trip.” He said and tried to ignore the guilt rising in his chest. He hated lying to his father, but he could see no other option as he watched Gaius come no closer to finding an antidote. “You don’t have to come.” He added, but silently hoped he would.

“Of course, I will.” Merlin smiled “You’ll be eaten alive without me.” He said and Arthur snorted. He couldn’t bring any of the knights with him – it was one thing to ask Merlin, but another to make a knight choose between their king and prince. Still, he had another solution that he felt could work.

“Lancelot!” Merlin beamed when they entered the forest. The man grinned widely when he saw Merlin. Arthur wondered if the pair had kept in contact after Uther kicked the false-knight out of Camelot. It had taken little effort for Arthur to hunt him down, his manservant certainly could have done the same.

“Your majesty,” Lancelot bowed his head from where he sat on his horse “I’m honored you have enlisted my help for this expedition.”

“I could think of no other man for the job.” Arthur answered, ignoring Merlin bouncing behind him like a child who had too many sweets. “We will be entering a realm where magic is used freely – are you willing?” He asked and Lancelot’s lips quirked slightly.

“I understand your hesitance towards sorcery, but I cannot say I share it. The magic I have seen is… Pure. I have no qualms interacting with the druids.” He said and Arthur eyebrows rose to his hairline, despite his nod. Pure magic? It seemed far-fetched, but he thrust that to the back of his mind. It was a conversation that could wait, surely.

“Do you believe the druids to be peaceful?” He asked instead and Lancelot shrugged, clicking his horse to move beside Arthur’s. Merlin spurred his mare to follow.

“I can’t say I know. I have heard they are not fond of violence or war.” Lancelot said slowly “But they also have an old power within them. You may have to decide for yourself, sire.” He admitted warily. Arthur nodded. He had no idea what this trip would entail, but he had to be prepared for anything… Including Merlin chattering non-stop apparently. Lancelot had slowed his horse down to fall into pace with the servant and the two had been whispering among one another ever since. Arthur wondered if he should be insulted – Merlin clearly adored the other man and Lancelot wasn’t much better. Arthur didn’t really see what was so special about Lancelot that had his servant so besotted. Sure, he was skilled with a sword and incredibly noble - but he could think of several others who had those traits. Himself being the obvious example. Perhaps Merlin simply missed speaking to another commoner? It seemed reasonable, but Arthur still couldn't help but think that Merlin talked to the prince as though he was a commoner.

“So these marks… what do they look like?” Lancelot asked when they made camp later that night “Is it like ink on your skin or? Or carved in?” He added and placed a hand on his forearm, as if feeling for a mark himself. Arthur went to answer, but was silenced by Merlin calmly removing his bandage and showing Lancelot his arm. Lancelot took Merlin’s wrist and observed it carefully, his face schooled into an expression of blankness.

“Huh… I can’t say I’ve seen anything like it before.” He answered, lower lip sticking out slightly “And it’s been how long?”

“Four months,” Merlin answered, wrapping his arm back up. Arthur clenched his jaw. He wasn’t sure why he felt so bothered by how casually Merlin had shown Lancelot his arm, but ire swirled in his chest. Lancelot watched Merlin for a moment and for a second the prince could see some sadness slipping through the cracks of his previously placed masked. Whatever was on Merlin’s arm had apparently gotten a reaction from the other man. He pushed down the emotions and pushed on. What did he care who Merlin showed his arm to? More people to use it against him, no doubt.

“Does it bother you?” Lancelot asked him quietly the next morning. Arthur glanced up from where he was scouting to wait for the other man to elaborate. “Your arm. Does it bother you to have to look at it everyday?” He asked and winced “I’m sorry, sire. That… Now that I say it aloud I realize how inappropriate-”

“It’s fine,” Arthur assured him and let his fingers trace the bandage “It does.” He finally answered “I want it gone, but now that I have seen the words I wonder if they will ever leave me.”

….and they wouldn’t, would they? The marks might disappear off of him, but he would never regain the ignorance he once had. It was one thing to be afraid of something, but another to be aware of just how afraid you are. As he swung his leg back on his stallion he wondered how much the knowledge would change him. His eyes danced towards where Merlin was packing the last of their rolls. Had the knowledge changed him?

  
When they reached the camp, a druid stood ready for them. A cloak masked most of his face, but he seemed to see them fine as he greeted Arthur by name. He placed a hand on his sword and prayed he wouldn’t need to use it.

“You are here about the marks.” The druid said and Arthur jutted out his chin.

“Did you do this?” He asked, gesturing to his arm and in a swift movement the druid lowered his hood. He was younger than Arthur expected – perhaps his father’s age rather than the ancient sorcerer had thought to find. Behind him, Arthur noted a young girl watched them from the trees, her eyes wide in wonderment. Arthur thought she was staring at him, but he realized she was transfixed on Merlin. Strange.

“No,” The man said. His hair was long and curly, the blonde falling to his shoulders now that his face was visible “This looks to be the work of…” he trailed off and shook his head “You wish to free yourself of the spell?” He asked and Arthur nodded. He would press for more information of the caster after it had been removed.

“Only Emrys can remove it.” The druid said and from beside him, Merlin made a choking noise. Arthur rolled his eyes at how the name seemed to spark some sort of fear. Lancelot shifted a little, eyes flickering between everyone in confusion, but remained silent.

“Emrys is responsible for this?”

“No. Emrys is the leader of the druids.” The man said and the girl dashed across the forest to hide behind another tree. A string of lights followed her – like small fairies. “He is very young and cannot begin to comprehend the power he wields. I believe this spell is to get his attention. Sway his mind while he young and impressionable.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Arthur said slowly “Why would a curse placed upon Camelot have any effect on your leader?” He asked and the druid’s lips quirked up slightly. Green eyes seemed to dig into his soul for a moment before tearing away to look at Lancelot and Merlin.

“Emrys is watching you, Arthur Pendragon. The entire magical world knows it.” He smiled and Arthur tensed “No doubt whoever the caster is knows this. They possibly wish to influence his opinion of you.”

“And why,” Arthur said lowly, his skin prickling at the idea of being watched by some creepy wizard from the shadows “Does this Emrys need to judge me?” He asked said. The druid tilted his head and Arthur wondered if this is what a mouse felt like in front of a cat. It wasn’t the druid who sent the shiver down his spine though, it was the sudden feeling he was being watched. A pair of eyes he had never noticed before seemed to everywhere around him.

“You have a great destiny, my king.” The druid said and Arthur didn’t bother to tell him he was a prince “You cannot complete it without Emrys. If you prove yourself worthy, his allegiance to you will bring forth a time foretold for many years… But alas, I say too much. Much has come to pass before Emrys will truly decide what kind of heart you have. I doubt even he is aware of the events that will unfold between the two of you.” He smiled and turned away. Arthur wanted to demand a better explanation, but the little girl silenced him by wheedling between the trees and taking the man’s place. The lights around her danced as she gave a small, clumsy curtsy and grinned up at the trio.

“Emrys will get rid of the markings!” She said brightly “But he probably doesn’t know how to, yet.”

“Great,” Arthur muttered “How do I find him?”

“Arthur!” Merlin protested “You can’t be serious.” He frowned and Lancelot tensed. Arthur pursed his lips. He thought magic hadn’t bothered the man…Or so he said it did not. The girl was already shaking her head. Dark curls bounced as she rolled from her toes to her heels.

“Everyone must show their marks.” The girl said “The caster hopes to sway Emrys opinion of you by showing him your weakness. By showing Emrys the people of Camelot are weak…But Emrys does not find weakness in fear. He has much of his own.” She shrugged “Let people show their marks and Emrys will be able to rid you of them.”

What an absolutely useless trip.

He was lucky the druids hadn’t attacked, but that was really the only positive thing to come from it. Even if he could tell his father he went to the druids for help there was no way he would convince him the words were true or to undo his edict. Even so, this could be a trap all the same. Some druid named Emrys was watching Arthur too. That was a thing.

He might need to accept nothing would change for a long time.

“Why is their leader someone so young anyways?” Arthur complained on the way back. Lancelot and Merlin had gone eerily quiet after the conversation with the druids, only murmuring something to one another every couple minutes “Ridiculous.”

“Perhaps he was born into the position – like you are born to be king.” Lancelot suggested calmly.

“But I’m not the king yet.” Arthur argued “My father still rules. Who knows if the druids have any sort of system for this? I can only imagine some child who can’t even reach my elbows giving orders to a bunch of powerful sorcerers.” He grumbled. Merlin sighed from behind him.

“He said young, not pubescent.” The servant commented “He’s probably your age.”

“What would you know of it?” Arthur snapped back and Lancelot coughed. They rode in silence for a few more miles before Merlin spoke again.

“Are you going to do it?” He asked and Arthur felt his shoulders slump slightly at the question. Trust Merlin to address the elephant in the room.

“My father will never agree.”

“What’s your father got to do with it?” Merlin asked sounding genuinely confused. Arthur opened his mouth to remind him exactly who is king, but Merlin beat him to it “People are more swayed by actions than paper. If you showed your arm, surely others will do the same… If you decide to heed the druids’ advice that it.”

“You expect me to defy my father’s law?”

“I mean…” Merlin hesitated “I’m not sure. How badly do you want the marks gone? Not that I have an opinion on it.” He added hastily and Arthur rolled his eyes. Of course he didn’t. Admittedly, his point was valid. Rubbing the side of his stallion’s neck he weighed the consequences of his actions. Perhaps he could work this in his favor and maybe even get his father on his side. Maybe.

“I have an idea of what to do about this,” He said that night. Morgana paused in eating to look across the table at Arthur and then slid her eyes to Uther. The king blinked before gesturing for him to continue.

“I believe the sorcerer is trying to taunt us. Showing us the power they have over the people of Camelot.” He started. Morgana rubbed her arm with the barest nod of agreement. Uther didn’t react. “I’m not sure these marks can be taken off of us, but I believe the best thing we can do is embrace them. Show the sorcerer even our fears are not weaknesses.” He said. The king almost spat out his wine at the proclamation. Merlin stepped forward the refill the goblet, a subtle raise of the eyebrow directing itself at Arthur.

"You wish to let the world see our weaknesses?" He demanded and Arthur placed his fork down thoughfully.

"Perhaps they are not weaknesses. They can maybe be strengths if we play our cards right" He said, ignoring his father's noise of protest "If we are aware of the fear of others we can strategize around them. It is fear that keeps the banadages on our arms and _that_ is a weakness." He pointed out "We can show the sorcerer we are ready to embrace such things."

Uther frowned, watching him with solemn eyes. He stabbed his fork into his food with a frown on his lips. Morgana's hand squeezed tighter around her arm, face whitening dramatically. He almost wanted to tease her. What was she scared of? Running out of combs? Merlin was eerily still. On any other servant it wouldn't be cause of alarm, but Arthur didn't think he had ever seen Merlin so frozen before. Uther took a pull of wine before sighing.

"Your words are either wisdom of folishness." He admitted dryly and tugged absently at the bandage knotted around his arm. "I suppose we have exhausted all other options..." He trailed off before his face hardened "And I will not have a sorcerer take me for a coward." He spat out. Arthur held his breath. "Fine." The king conceded.

* * *

“You don’t want me to see yours.” Arthur commented to Merlin that night. The servant had been quiet since dinner. “Despite what you said earlier. Only you showed Lancelot without qualms so surely it must be me you’re concerned about.”

“Lancelot and Gaius are the only people I would show it to.” Merlin snapped at him and winced a little at how harshly his words came out. Swallowing, he shook his head. “I trust you too, of course. I just… I don’t want people to get the wrong idea. Lancelot and Gaius know me well. They’ll understand.” He said certainly. Arthur pursed his lips. He liked to think he knew Merlin well too, but obviously he was missing a key bit of information.

“Here.” Arthur said and tore of the bandages “If I’m going to do this, I might as well start with you.”

  
Merlin froze, eyes refusing to fall down onto the bare arm in front of him.

“You don’t… Are you sure?” He finally asked and Arthur nodded. Merlin swallowed before finally looking down at Arthur’s arm. His heart beat a little faster as his eyes flicked over the writing. He frowned and reread it. The third time he grabbed Arthur’s arm and turned it – possibly just to be sure he didn’t misinterpret it the first two times.

“You can read, can’t you?” He asked dryly and blue eyes darted back up to him.

“I… I’m confused.” Merlin admitted. Arthur sighed, tugging his arm back. “Do you…” Merlin trailed off before shaking his head “Can I ask questions or would you rather me just leave?”

Say what you will about Merlin, the man was incredibly perceptive when it came to people’s emotions. He wondered if that was why Gaius said he had such talent as a physician or if his servant was actually brighter than he let on. Perhaps both.

“Ask what you wish,” He gritted out. He really didn’t want to have this discussion, but for the sake of doing this correctly or not at all, he would force himself through it. If he couldn’t discuss his fears with Merlin he wasn’t sure how he was going to do it with everyone else. The servant watched him before turning away and continuing on his duties for a few minutes. Arthur wondered what the Hell that meant before Merlin spoke again.

“I thought for sure it would be magic.” He said lightly “Or some sort of semblance to it.”

“I’m sure it’s what’s on my father.” Arthur told him, finger tracing lightly over the letters.

“Well you’re quite lucky.” Merlin told him as he put some shirts away. “It seems to me that yours is a bit… Far fetched?” He said and Arthur snorted.

“Your confidence in others is inspiring.” He said dryly “I’m sure it will happen at some point.”

“Perhaps,” Merlin shrugged and turned back to him “But you’ll recover fine.” He said and looked over at the crackling fire with distaste. “If I told you I had a fear of cleaning out fireplaces would you send someone else to do it tomorrow?”

“Aw, but what about conquering your fears, Merlin?” Arthur taunted. His lips were tugging upwards a bit. He had wondered how much people would care about knowing his fears, but Merlin seemed to take it in stride. Granted, he was a strange one and Arthur doubted he would receive similar treatment from everyone, but… It was a nice first step. Morgana would be the real challenge.

The next day people noticed his bare arm. The prince noted Merlin didn’t wear his bandage either, but was extremely adept at hiding the words anyways. His jacket covered them mostly and anytime he saw a flash of them it was almost always gone as soon as got the first glimpse. Still, it was enough to tell he wasn’t wearing anything, which people noticed. By lunchtime a good chunk of the servants had revealed their arms. Morgana had torn hers off silently.

_Uther Pendragon_

Arthur had stared. His heart broke a little as she soberly retracted her arm from his gaze and their eyes met. He wasn’t for sure why or when Morgana had changed, but he was certain she had. He still hadn’t expected this though. He wondered how his father would react towards such a reveal.

“You’re very brave to be doing this, Arthur.” She told him gently, nodding to where his arm was bared to the world. He smiled at her weakly, allowing her to read the word gauged into his skin critically. She looked back up at him and stared. “And yet, I find it isn’t your bravery that impresses me today.” She smiled and patted his arm. He was left to ponder what exactly she meant by that.

Three days later and the words started disappearing. It would appear the druids had given him some reasonable advice after all. Arthur’s and Morgana’s disappeared first. Then Uther and Gaius. Then servants and the cooks. Rumors spun around the lower town in celebration.

“It appears you were right, Arthur.” His father said a week later. It was strange, eating dinner with his father and Morgana now. Arthur found himself watching their interactions more closely than he had before. The way Morgana never broke her gaze away, but would subtly lean away. How she would jut out her chin with bold opinions and defiance, but always gave a release of breath when Uther looked away.

“Is Merlin, alright?” Morgana asked him as he walked her back to his room that night. Arthur paused, unsure why he wouldn’t be. Luckily, Morgana didn’t give him a chance to ask “Gwen told me he still had his marks.”

“Has she read them?” Arthur asked, unable to help himself. Morgana shook her head and Arthur got the feeling he knew what the issue was. Sighing, he bid her goodnight, ignoring her knowing eyes as he circled back around his room. Merlin was absent, so he tried started the trek towards Gaius’ workshop.

“I’ve tried everything!” Merlin’s voice came from the room “I don’t know what to do. I need to get rid of it or else-”

“Merlin,” Gaius interrupted patiently “I think the magic just wishes for you to show someone.”

“I have! You. Lancelot. Why isn’t that enough? It’s not like I can just… Put it on display. Think about how this would affect Arthur! You know what people would assume.” Merlin’s voice spluttered. There was a clink and a heavy sigh.

“Then perhaps just show Arthur.” Gaius suggested gently. Arthur swallowed. He should probably make his presence known. A prince shouldn’t skulk outside of people’s door, eavesdropping… But he didn’t pull away, wanting to hear Merlin’s response.

“And say what? He wouldn’t understand.” Merlin groaned “He would feel terrible and I… I couldn’t tell him why could I? I can only say it isn’t his fault and… Everything could change if he figured it out. I don’t want that.”

Arthur stepped back. He didn’t need to hear anymore – Merlin’s fear was suddenly very clear.

The next morning, Merlin came in to find the prince already up and ready to go. He wouldn’t admit it, but sleep had been scarce last night. He was sure he looked terrible with shadows under his eyes and skin five shades paler than usual.

“It’s me, isn’t it?” He asked after Merlin started running through today’s schedule. The servant froze, looking at where Arthur sat on the edge of his bed. “On your arm, I mean. That’s why you haven’t shown anyone. You don’t want to ruin my reputation. People would think I was abusing you or something.”

It made perfect sense. In a sick, twisted way it did. Merlin didn’t ever seem frightened of him. Then again, Morgana hadn’t seemed fearful of Uther either. Perhaps Pendragons just inspired fear out the innocents around them. His stomach clenched at the thought.

“Arthur-”

“Am I right?” He interrupted, not bringing himself to look up from the floor in front of him. Merlin stayed silent, instead tossing the paper he had been ready to read onto the desk. A few seconds later he felt a hand shove him slightly over so the servant could sit next to him on the edge of the bed.

“Here.” He said and Merlin’s arm was shoved underneath his nose. Arthur paused and sighed when his own name glared right back at him. “It isn’t what you think, you know.”

“Of course not.” Arthur muttered and pushed his arm away from him.

“Don’t mope, it isn’t a good look on you.” Merlin sighed and Arthur turned to stare at him, mouth opened a little. “You’re hardly scary to me in the sense you are thinking of. I call you a prat enough for that to be obvious.” He smiled and Arthur pursed his lips. That didn’t seem to mean much anymore.

“Then what sense should I be thinking of?” He asked skeptically. Merlin went quiet, clasping his hands together in front of him.

“In the sense… I’ve never been so wholly dedicated to someone before. I’m willing to die for just about any decent person that I’ve come across, you know. It isn’t that special for people to want to die for a good cause. I’ve never really met someone who makes me want live and see what happens next though. That’s… Different. And scary. I’m not used to it and I’m not entirely sure how fond of it I am… But the truth of the matter is even if I did want to back out, I think it’s too late now. I’m kind of stuck with you.” He chuckled wryly “I know I have a choice in the matter, but…” His voice trailed off and Arthur found he couldn’t stop staring at him “What?”

Arthur didn’t know what to think. If this was some blatant lie to make him feel better or if there were truth to the words. Instead he looked away.

“You are very strange.” He said and Merlin smiled.

“I know.”

“One day,” Arthur told him “I’m going to figure you out.” He said and Merlin snorted “Until then, I think I’ll have you-”

“Don’t say it.”

“-polish my armor, wash my clothes, clean the fireplace, and meet me for training at noon.” He couldn’t help but laugh at the despair on Merlin’s face as he flopped back onto Arthur’s bed with a whine. He rolled his eyes, giving a rough shove so the other man was in a heap on the floor.

“I’m so young.” Merlin said from somewhere beneath the bed “I deserve a full life, you know. Filled with not doing anything you just said.”

“I’m sure your tragic days will be written about for all to hear.” Arthur told him and stood up “Come on, I have things to do.”

The next day, Merlin’s mark was gone. Neither of them brought it up again, but Arthur never forgot. Never stopped wondering about it. It was years down the road, when Arthur was lying in Merlin’s arms that he thought back to all the foreshadowing the words had brought them. How Morgana’s marks had been a cry for help long before she turned against them. How he laid in the midst of the betrayal he had so desperately feared. It was ironic that it was betrayal that ultimately killed him, surely… And Merlin. Arthur’s gut reaction was Merlin was scared of him finding out about his magic. As his eyes fluttered closed, leaving him with the sound of Merlin’s screams, he realized how wrong he was.

**Author's Note:**

> Yep. That's it folks. Sorry if it is a bit of a mess. I really did write this at 3 am to avoid my responsibilities lol. If any of you read my last fic then you'll see I kind of did a 180 from the light-hearted stuff I posted. Not a complete 180. It wasn't that angsty - I have more evilness in mind for the future that will make this seem fluffy. Look forward to that I guess lol... Thanks for reading!


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